Frozen Heart, Hidden Love
by StrawbrryX3
Summary: Shiro loves his little brother. He knew that from the very moment the little orange-head was born. But now that Ichigo is in danger...in danger of him, what will he do to keep his little brother safe? Maybe smut? Rating may change


**Based off the movie Frozen, and the book The Snow Queen. If you haven't seen Frozen yet, GO AND WATCH IT NOW! I'm officially moving it to my favorites…I'm a huge Disney fan, probably my favorite thing before I learned about Bleach and Fanfiction…yeah, well, hope you like this! Sorry I haven't posted anything in a while…^^;**

**Oh and WARNING! This is a spoiler for Frozen! It's not the same storyline…but close to it.**

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**Frozen Heart, Hidden Love (part 1)**

Shiro loved his little brother. He knew it the first time he saw him. When his tired and weary mother had handed the baby to him, the baby's eyes opened and warm chocolate orbs stared up into Shiro's own gold ones. They baby gurgled a bit and seemed to smile at the boy holding him so gently. The tiniest tuft of orange hair, like their mother's strawberry blonde waves, stuck out on the young one's head and the baby's cheeks were bright red. Shiro smiled back and held on tighter.

"What should we name him?" Masaki asked her husband who stood right next to her bed. "Katsuki, Mamoru…..?"

"Ichigo." Both parents stared at their first born son. "What did you say, dear?"

The pale boy looked into his mother's amber eyes. "His name should be Ichigo."

The three of them looked to the smiling little baby, who stared obliviously back. He waved a tiny little fist with one hand and gripped Shiro's shirt in the other. "Ichigo." The baby giggled and smiled.

'One who protects.' Shiro couldn't help but let a tender smile fill his own face, playing with the baby's little hands and feet. His little brother, the sun to his moon, born on the summer solstice, June 21 (it's just for this story, bear with me…:p) the opposite of himself, as he was born on the winter solstice, December 21.

* * *

In the middle of a large fjord of calm water that emptied into the sea, stood an island. On the outskirts of the island, beaches bordered the village. Not many were out, as it was late at night and the moon enveloped the people in its gentle embrace. Though, in the center of the village, sat a grand palace, closed in by a tall wall. The only way to enter was through the tall iron gates that opened every morning and closed at evening. This was the kingdom of Sereitei, ruled by Kurosaki Isshin and his beautiful wife, Masaki. They had two boys, only four years apart. And in one of the castle's many rooms, slept these two boys.

Through a tall window, moonlight filtered through and lit up the large room. A young boy, looking to be about four or five, and closest to the window, stirred and turned onto his back. He had bright orange locks, short and spiky. His cheeks were flushed with sleep when he blearily blinked his hazel gold eyes open. Upon seeing the silvery disk shining in the dark sky with stars twinkling, the boy smiled and jumped off his bed. He approached the bed across the room and jumped onto the body sleeping peacefully under the covers.

"Shiro. Shiro….wake up!" The orange haired boy jumped slightly on his brother, trying to get him to move. "Mmm…go back to sleep Ichigo."

Shiro mumbled and pushed the younger off his bed. Ichigo landed with a thump on the ground, pouting. He smiled suddenly and once again crawled over his brother. "I can't. The _sky_ is awake. That means _I'm_ awake."

That still got no response from the older. "Shiiiirooo…"

The little boy opened the older's eyelid, smile even wider when the golden eye didn't roll back into his head. His brother was awake. Ichigo called his brother's name again, softer this time. He pressed his soft lips against a pale cheek, giggling when Shiro's golden eyes opened. "Do you want to play?"

The paler of the two smiled, and turned, so that his little brother was sitting on his legs, their eyes meeting each other's. "Okay."

In their pajamas, Ichigo pulled the taller down the stairs. "Come on come on, let's go!"

Shiro hushed the orangette, looking around to make sure no servants had heard them. They finally got to the grand doors of the ballroom and Shiro pushed them open. Once inside, both of the boys stood in the middle of the polished floors. The younger of the two smiled, pulling on his brother's arm.

"Come on…do it Onii-chan! Do the magic!" Shiro smiled down on the energetic child and put his pale hands together. Blue light started to glow between them. "You ready?"

The young child nodded eagerly, and Shiro let go, his hands extended to the high ceiling. Snow started to fall and Ichigo jumped in glee, giggling happily. The white haired boy shushed his brother again and set a foot down to the ground. Ice formed beneath his feet, expanding to cover the entire ballroom. Ichigo, with his little boots on, laughed as the ice caused him to slide back a few inches.

Ichigo turned towards Shiro, the little boy's cheeks were rosy, honey orbs alight with happiness, and pink lips pulled into a brilliant smile. "Thank you, Nii-chan."

The older just smiled in return, happy to be the one to receive such a smile. The older grasped Ichigo's smaller hands in his and skated across the ice together. The smaller nearly fell many times, but Shiro caught him before he could injure himself. They next built snowmen together. With Shiro's powers and Ichigo's imagination, they came up with a funny looking lion-like snowman. The smaller boy hugged the lion snowman, and looked up at Shiro. "What's his name?"

"…Hm…how about Kon?" They laughed together as they threw snowballs at one another. Suddenly, Ichigo jumped from a mound of snow, shouting "Catch me!"

Shiro aimed his power underneath Ichigo, the kid landing on a soft pile of snow with a poof. He giggled and got up again, jumping off the mound. His brother caught him with his snow, reveling in his time with Ichigo. This continued for a while until Ichigo started to slow, getting tired of jumping. He leaped one more time, and Shiro aimed to make a slide, but tripped over Kon's body. His face came in contact with the cold ice and his arms ached. The ice under his cheek burned and his eyes were blurry. Though through his unfocused vision, he could make out, as if in slow motion, his beloved little brother jumping off of a particularly high hill of snow, completely trusting Shiro to catch him again.

"Ichigo!" In his panic, he let out his power to try and make a pile for Ichigo to land, but it misfired and hit the orangette in the head. The little boy gasped, eyes closing as he rolled and just barely landed on some snow. "Ichigo!"

Shiro forced his body to move despite the pain and rushed to his brother, pulling his slighter form into his lap. "I-Ichigo…?"

There was no response, and tears started to gather in Shiro's eyes. He gasped as a streak of white went through Ichigo's vibrant orange hair, just above the ear where he had accidently struck him. "Mom! Dad!"

He hugged the cooling body against his own, holding in tears as he whispered against Ichigo's pajama clad shoulder. "It's okay Ichigo, I got you."

In his guilt and helplessness, ice started to spread from his body, recoating the floor and walls with hard, cracked ice that spiked dangerously. The doors to the ballroom banged, no doubt their father throwing all of his weight onto it to break the ice on the other side. When they finally did open, Isshin and Masaki ran into the room, taking in the snowy interior and the two bodies huddled together on the ground. One was crying now, the other still and unmoving.

"Hichigo! What happened?" Isshin gathered Ichigo into his arms, dark brown eyes widening at the coldness of his youngest son's body. "He's as cold as ice."

"I-it was an accident. I-I sli-slipped."

"Come, I know what to do." He handed the orangette to his wife, who also herded their oldest to their room. She wrapped Ichigo in a thick blanket, waiting for her husband to come back. The king did, holding an ancient book in his hands. A picture of a map was shown on the page he was on. "Let's go."

Unbeknownst to the staff, the king and queen readied their horses and set off, Shiro sitting in front of the king, and Ichigo held tightly in Masaki's arms. The two horses raced off, running across the sole bridge that connected Sereitei's island to the mainland. They went to the forest, riding to the deepest and most unknown part of the darkness. Once there, they dismounted, walking about until they reached a clearing.

"Please! We need help. My son is hurt!" Strange people started to appear around them, all with weird white fragments covering parts of their bodies. "We are the vizords. What is wrong, your highness?"

"My son. He has been struck by ice." A murmur went through the group, one leaving only to return with a blonde man dressed in odd green robes. He bowed his head in greeting. He outstretched his arms. "I am Urahara Kisuke. Where's the child?"

Masaki handed Ichigo to the strange man. He observed the white streak in the young one's hair, the coldness of his body, and the pale pallor of his skin. He clicked his tongue.

"Can you help him?" After a moment, Urahara shook his head. He gave the boy back to his mother and kneeled in front of Shiro. He took the pale boy's hands in his own and leveled him with a piercing gaze. "Was he born with the powers or cursed?"

"Born." Was Isshin's immediate response. The blonde nodded. "I cannot help your boy, but this one can."

"Tell me how, please." Shiro's voice was desperate, hoping for any way to save Ichigo from freezing. "You, dear boy, also have a different power besides your ice and snow. The power to manipulate minds."

Both parents made noises of surprise, but Shiro kept quiet, listening for how he could save his brother. Urahara's gaze became solemn then, and he quietly said, "The only way to save your brother is to erase his memory of you using your powers. Any magic in his life will have to be removed."

Shiro hardened his resolve. He'd do anything to keep ice from taking over Ichigo. Even if it meant erasing some of his most precious moments with him from his mind. Urahara once again took the young boy and set him so that he was in front of Shiro. The older cupped his brother's cheeks in his hands, frowning at the icy chill seeming to hang off his skin. He concentrated, letting his mind connect with the orangette's. He could feel pain. Horrible cold pain that shuddered through his body. And he was the one that had caused this pain in Ichigo. "I'm sorry."

He went through Ichigo's memories, wincing here and there when the ice started to spread. He slowly erased each memory of him using his powers and replacing them with ones of being outside in the snow together. It might not be what he wanted, but Ichigo would still be able to remember the fun they had. Though, when he came to one particular memory, he stopped. It was the sole memory that he hated to change.

It was the time Ichigo had found out that he had powers. Shiro had refrained from using any magic around Ichigo for a while. He was afraid of what Ichigo might say or do once he found out. He was afraid that Ichigo, like some of the few people that knew of his odd powers, would shun him. Look at him in disgust. In fear. Like he was a freak. So he kept his secret, until one day, in the gardens, when he thought Ichigo was sleeping, he let go.

The fountain was frozen in smooth, gleaming ice, and the plants were encased in sparkling spirals of frost and snow. Cold puffs of ice spread from the bottoms of his feet and froze the dewing grass. He laughed and spun around, letting snow fall around him…that was until he saw Ichigo standing at the edge of the garden, right before Shiro's wintry cold started.

His young, vibrant brother. Though Shiro had learned to somewhat ignore the feared looks he received from the servants that knew of his strange powers, he had no defense against Ichigo. His heart beating frantically, golden eyes wide, and body completely still, he waited for Ichigo's reaction.

"Onii-chan?" The toddler was looking at Shiro with large, brown eyes, a cute childish lisp lingering in his soft voice. Ichigo took a step forward, entering the wonderland Shiro had created. Snowflakes drifted lazily to land in his orange hair that was still ruffled from his bed. It slowed, then finally stopped, causing a cute pout to from on pink lips. He looked up, wonder and curiosity in his gaze. "Can you do that again?"

The pale boy blinked and put his hands together, blue light forming in between them. He threw his hand up and snow once again started to fall. Ichigo laughed and grabbed his brother's hand. "Lwets play, Onii-chan."

Shiro smiled now. Ichigo, the sole person he held so dearly to himself, the only thing he needed to survive, had accepted him. Nothing else mattered besides Ichigo.

Shiro snapped back to reality, erasing the memory entirely. It was too involved with his powers to replace. Tears blurred his vision, and he slumped back, exhausted. Though before he allowed himself rest, he checked on his brother. He could feel under his palms that Ichigo's cheeks were warming and watched as his pained frown turned into one of contentment. He could close his eyes now. Ichigo was safe. He was going to be okay. The orangette was safe from him, his powers…and Shiro would make sure to keep it that way.

* * *

Shiro asked his father and mother to do something for him. He watched as his bed and belongings were moved into the room across from theirs. The staff was reduced, and the windows shuttered. The gates were locked securely. When all was finished, he stood at the doorway to his new room. He heard a creak and turned. Ichigo stood there, confused and upset. Though Shiro had erased his memories of any magic, a white streak remained in Ichigo's sunset colored hair…a reminder to the paler boy of what his uncontrolled powers could do.

"Onii-chan?" Shiro tried for a smile, but ended up with a sad, small lift of his lips. "I'm sorry."

He closed the door and looked down at his hands. He would control his powers so he wouldn't ever have to harm Ichigo, wouldn't have to erase anything. Reducing his contact with his brother would keep him safe from any harm. He would lock away his mind manipulation, his ice powers. All for Ichigo. Shiro's golden eyes burned with determination and he clenched his pale hands into a fist. He'd do it because he loved Ichigo.

* * *

That same year, not long after the incident happened, snow started to fall. An excited five year squealed as he watched the snow fall down. He opened the door to his room and looked across the hall where Shiro's new room was. He walked up and knocked.

"Do you wanna play, Onii-chan? It's snowing outside!" There was no response. Ichigo waited for a second before walking away. A few hours later, one would find the youngest prince on the ballroom floor, absentmindedly playing with his two favorite plushies. He sighed and laid down on the shined floor. "Onii-chan…"

He decided to try again. The boy walked up to Shiro's door and knocked. "Do you wanna play, Nii-chan? You don't even really have to play with me, just watch and be with me."

Silence. Ichigo waited for anything. "…Go away, Ichigo." The boy sighed heavily, hanging his head and shuffling his feet as he made his way back to his room.

Shiro was at a window seat, frown marring his face for disappointing Ichigo like that. His golden eyes were gazing at the falling snow, and he rested his pale hands on the sill. He gasped and pulled his hands away when the ledge was suddenly coated with ice. He panicked and went to his parents. Isshin though for a while before coming back with white gloves. He slipped them onto his oldest son's hands and said, "The gloves will help. Remember to control. Don't feel and it won't come without your permission."

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4 years passed. A now nine year old Ichigo with shoulder length orange hair laughed as he knocked on Shiro's door. "Do you wanna play, Shiro nii-chan?"

Once again, no answer. Ichigo asked this question every day, waiting, hoping, that he might get the opening of the door. A small laugh. Anything. But today was no different. He slid down the winding staircase's rail, aware that this was a very dangerous thing to do, but he did it all the time so he knew he wouldn't fall. Once at the bottom, he opened the door to a study and ran around, occasionally pulling off books that he might read. The orangette sighed. "I'm bored."

He sat down and stared at the ceiling. "I'm lonely, Onii-chan. Why don't you wanna play with me anymore?"

Shiro paced in his room, backing himself into a corner when Masaki tried to get near him. "Stay away! It's getting stronger!"

Isshin held up his hands. "Getting upset won't help you."

"Stay away. I don't want to hurt you." The nearly 13 year old cradled his hands to his chest, unwilling to let them free.

* * *

4 more years passed. A taller Ichigo, nearly 13, with orange hair that rested a little lower that his shoulder blades stopped at Shiro's door once more. "Onii-san…"

He shook his head in defeat and walked away. He instead ran to his parents room, pulling each into a tight hug. "See you in two weeks."

Isshin and Masaki smiled, the king ruffling his youngest's hair and the queen patting his cheek. The rulers of Sereitei made way down to the grand hall of the castle, servants pulling luggage behind them. When Ichigo left to do something else, Shiro stepped forward and bowed. Halfway down, he looked up, worry in his eyes. "Do you have to go?"

Isshin patted his shoulder reassuringly and Masaki smiled. "It's only for two weeks. You'll be fine."

The king and queen boarded a grand ship in the harbor, embarking on their trip to a different kingdom to talk of an alliance.

Back in Sereitei, a week later, a terrible storm passed. Gigantic waves crashed along the shores and drowned out anything along the beaches. Ichigo and Shiro watched in worry as the roiling sea and sky raged. Another week passed. Isshin and Masaki should be home by now. Maybe they were running late…Another week passed. Their butler, Zangetsu sent out search teams. Another week passed. Still no sign of either the king or queen, or the ship they had been on. Another week. Shiro, as his it was his duty as heir, announced that the former King and Queen of Sereitei were lost at sea. A funeral was planned. Two large stones with plaques were left on a cliff overlooking the sea in honor of the former rulers. The cliff was the only place on the island that wasn't a part of the beach surrounding the village. Ichigo stood in between the two honorific tombstones, next to the priest who spoke of their lives and accomplishments.

Once home, Ichigo pulled his black cloak closer and shuffled to Shiro's door. He gave one faltering knock. "Onii-san? I know you're in there. People have been asking me where you've b-been." He sniffled, wiping at his eyes quickly, refusing to cry. "I'm right h-here for you…just let me in. It's only you and me."

The orangette turned and slid down the door. "What are we gonna do, Onii-san?"

Shiro on the other side of the door, was also slumped against the wooden frame, heart stricken at the pained and sad voice of his brother. How he so wanted to fling open the door and comfort his baby brother, say soothing words and laugh like they used to. But he wouldn't, so afraid was he that he would accidentally hurt Ichigo again, that he refrained from doing anything. Though he did feel tears prick at his eyes. Their parents were dead…and his brother was on the verge of breaking.

"Do you wanna play…?" The question was whispered in a soft soft voice, but Shiro heard it. He always heard it. '_Yes._'

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**Whew! Finally got that done! I think besides my finals at the end of the year, I don't have any taxing things…so I get more time to write for you guys! So tell me what you think of this one…like or no…Please review!**


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